One Should Never
by ThePhreak
Summary: There are some things one should never know. There are some things one should never do. There are some things one should never see. SSHG kind of. AU. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** The only profit here is my own amusement, maybe yours, and relief from a plot bunny.

**A/N:** Told from Hermione's point of view. I basically thought this whole thing up while sitting in a hospital waiting for test results to find out if my brother needed surgery or not and discussing other visits to that particular hospital. If it seems strange and angsty to you, that's probably why.

**Another quick note:** I've gone through and edited all the chapters, so they're free of grammar and spelling mistaktes. If you do find a mistake, though, let me know and I'll fix it.

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_I don't want to be here. _

The thought ran its way through my mind, circling my brain, as I sat on the Hogwarts Express; my stomach feeling like someone had dropped a hunk of metal in it then tied it in knots. But neither my thoughts nor emotions showed in my expression or posture. They never did anymore, unless I wanted them to. I was a master actress now.

I half wished I had someone to talk to. And I mean really talk to. Not about trivial things, like classes or how summer went or Quidditch. About the serious things in life…. But I know that if I talk to someone I'll hate myself for it later, even it if helps. _Especially_ if it helps.

The notion was, however, still appealing. Just find some shoulder to lay my head on and cry, let everything flow out.

Maybe it wasn't metal in my stomach. Maybe it was the knowledge I held, and my brain couldn't stand the weight of it, so it sent it to my stomach.

I need more sleep.

But I can't sleep. If I sleep, the nightmares will come back. If I'm awake, at least they stay as thoughts.

Harry and Ron just keep talking. They don't know. No one knows.

And no one ever will.

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It felt like everyone was staring at me during dinner. Did they all know? Did they talk about it with their families during meals over the summer? Were they talking about it now?

I couldn't breathe. I felt like I was drowning. I was struggling against it, trying to make my way to the surface, arms flailing, feet kicking.

No one can help me with what goes on in my own mind.

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Birds chirped loudly.

I heard someone, probably Lavender, groan softly, the sound muffled. She probably had a pillow over her head, trying to block out the noise.

The birds didn't bother me. I've been awake for hours.

But I finally got fed up with laying there. I got up. Got dressed. Did the menial tasks I did every morning. Left my dorm. Left Gryffindor Tower.

It was early. Earlier than I had thought. The sun was barely above the trees. I could see it through the windows I passed.

I half wanted to stop and stare out at the grounds. Open the window, sit on the ledge. Maybe stand up and leap off...

I continued on towards the Great Hall for an early breakfast.

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**A/N:** Any and all constructive criticism is welcome! 


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it. I'm not claiming to own it.

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Sometimes I wonder if Harry and Ron really know me. If anyone really knows me. If_ I_ really know me. 

No one has noticed any changes in me. They haven't seen anything in the way I act, the way I talk, the smile I need to force upon my face when it's appropriate. No one has realized that I'm dying inside, drowning, suffocating in my thoughts, my memories, my knowledge...

"Pass the potatoes, Hermione?"

I forced the smile in place. Picked up the potatoes and passed them to Neville.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

My mask was in place. Intermission was over and it was time to get back onstage.

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I couldn't think. No, that's wrong; thinking seems to be the only thing I _can_ do.

I couldn't concentrate. Not on my work, not on what my friends were saying.

I needed to leave. To just run and run and never look back. To fall off the face of the earth. Get a new identity in a new country, pretend to be someone else just so I wouldn't have to be Hermione Granger anymore. So I wouldn't have to think or know.

I wanted to, but I couldn't. I couldn't do anything anymore. Nothing I wanted to do, at least.

I need to get out. I need to be alone.

"Are you all right, Hermione? You've been staring at the fire for the past ten minutes," Ron said.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just tired," I replied, rubbing my eyes for effect.

"So am I...I think I'll go up to bed," Ron said, standing and stretching. "Coming, Harry?"

Harry seemed to jump at that. "Sure, Ron." Recovering quickly. There's something wrong with Harry, and if there wasn't something wrong with me, I would've noticed sooner.

Somehow, I can't bring myself to care.

I waited a few minutes after they went up, and then left the Common Room.

The Owlery isn't that peaceful at night. There are always owls swooping in and out. But it gave me what I needed: privacy and air.

I leaned on one of the windowsills, elbows resting on the ledge, hands gripping my hair. I didn't have the ability to keep the memories away any longer, and I let them take me away.

_Dad didn't drive quickly. I wondered why. His teeth were clenched, a strange look on his face. His knuckles were white against the wheel, but he spoke calmly when asking how I was doing. He said we didn't talk enough anymore. I thought that I didn't want to talk, but I didn't say anything._

_I didn't want to be there. I wanted to be at home, reading a book or watching a film or something on the telly. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to scream and cry. Anything but sit quietly, hands in my lap, a neutral expression on my face and listening to my father tell me we didn't talk enough anymore._

_I noticed a bunch of dead flowers in front of a gravestone as we passed a cemetery._

_I wondered if it would be _him_ underground soon, dead flowers decorating _his_ grave._

_Dad pulled into the parking lot. Found Mum's car. Parked next to it. Got out. He didn't wait for me, but that was okay._

_The ground was wet. My shoes squeaked on the floor as I entered the building. People stared as we walked up to the desk, talked to the woman, asked her what room he was in and if we were allowed to go back..._

An owl brushed against my head. I forced myself back to the present. I couldn't stay there, so I left.

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**A/N:** Constructive criticism is welcome. It's what all writers need to get better at what they do. And I'd love to hear your thoughts about this. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it. Not claiming to own it. Only borrowing.

**A/N:** Thanks to **Because-I-Got-High** for the first review! )

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The owls swooped in, carrying the post. The _whoosh_ of hundreds of wings stopped any attempt at conversation. An owl landed in front of Dean, the _Daily Prophet_ tied to its leg. 

"Why do you bother to get that?" Ron asked sourly. He was glaring at his meal, a plate of toast, eggs, and bacon, as if it had committed a crime against him.

"Need to know what's going on," Dean replied. He opened the _Prophet_. I saw he was scanning the obituaries. Probably looking for someone he knew, making sure none of his loved ones were dead.

I didn't care. Harry didn't either. He was staring into space, blank expression on his face. I wondered, just for a moment, if he knew what it was like to feel empty, devoid of happiness, or even sorrow. To be completely apathetic. To feel as if there's nothing but a gaping hole where your chest should be. To not care about anything anymore, not even those who are supposed to love you and be loved by you.

I stood up abruptly, knocking the table with my thighs. My glass almost toppled, but only spilled a small bit of pumpkin juice out.

"I'm going to the library," I said. I left without waiting for them to answer, but I could feel eyes on my back as I walked.

The library is, once again, my sanctuary. Though now it's for a different reason. Before I would actually read. Now I can just seclude myself in a corner, maybe back in the section where you can find information on things to do with History of Magic, hold up a book, and pretend to read. Or not even bother with the pretext. I could just sit and think and stare and try not to think.

There are so many things I don't know. That used to bother me, but I find that many things I once cared about don't matter anymore. I wished they did, though. I wished I could throw myself into my studies, believing blindly that they were important. I wouldn't have to think of anything besides them, then. But there are things in life that are more important than grades and knowledge.

I can't think of those things now. I can't think of anything that's important to me anymore. Does that mean I'm a bad person, or just being dramatic?

Do I even care?

I realized I should get to class. I could hear everyone leaving. I could hear the hundreds of footsteps in the hall. Students flowing along in the tides of life and responsibility.

I got to my feet and decided to blend with the crowd and try to pretend I belonged in the flow.

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I once liked Charms, but now I've decided it's a terrible class. So much disorder and noise...it would be wonderful if it was silent.

"I...can't...get...this...right!" Ron growled, waving his wand violently about. I wanted to tell him he never got things right on the first few tries, that he didn't concentrate enough, that I know that if he could get away with it he wouldn't put any effort into anything.

But I stayed silent. I didn't speak my mind. I didn't glare at him, or yell at him, or say anything derogatory. I just slipped into the Ways of Hermione Granger and showed him what he was doing wrong. He grudgingly thanked me and performed a decent Scourgify charm.

He didn't even realize I couldn't stand to be around him anymore. I wondered how I ever could.

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**A/N:** Constructive criticism is extremely welcome! I want to make this the best it can be, and I won't know what to do unless you let me know what I might possibly be doing wrong. 


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Thanks to **Martiele**, **Shdwcat27**, and **Because-I-Got-High** for their reviews!

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it. Not claiming to own it. Only borrowing.

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_He smiled when he saw me and I wanted to burst into tears right then. His eyes were half closed, his skin pale. I ran my fingers through his hair, which was lank and greasy, and not from lack of washing. His hands were cold when they brushed against my arm, a stark contrast to how hot his forehead and cheeks were..._

"Miss Granger!"

I didn't look up from where I was staring at the knife imbedded in the skin of my hand. Blood dripped onto the roots I had been cutting, the desk underneath them. My right hand still gripped the knife, and I was half-tempted to push it in deeper, through the bones and nerves and tendons...

A hand pushed mine out of the way, not exactly gently, but carefully. Just as carefully, the hand pulled the knife from my flesh. The injury hurt badly, but I couldn't force myself to look away, or even move. I could see a small speck of white and wondered it if was bone, but more blood soon blotted the speck out.

"Granger, pay attention!" Professor Snape snapped. He was slightly paler than usual. Or was I just imagining that? It didn't matter, anyway.

He pulled a handkerchief out of some pocket or another and pressed it against the wound. We were both still, and I wondered why for a moment, and then realized he wanted me to hold it myself. I did, and he quickly took his hand away. His scowl was in place.

"Macmillan, escort Granger to the hospital wing," Snape said. Ernie quickly nodded, and stood next to me, waiting for me to move.

"Get moving, Granger!"

_"Move out of the way, please, miss!"_

_I looked to my left, and then moved out of the way, as a stretcher wheeled by. The nurse spared a glance at me before turning a corner..._

I let Ernie put his hand on my back and gently lead me through the door. Fought the urge to sit down against the wall, put my head in my hands, and cry.

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"What was wrong with you in Potions, Hermione?" Ron asked. I wished I could disappear and not have to talk to him.

"Nothing, Ron. I just wasn't paying as much attention as I should've," I said, looking away from him and back at the dinner I hadn't touched.

"Alright, then," he said unsurely.

There was a somewhat awkward silence. Ginny sat down next to Harry, starting up a conversation about Quidditch tryouts. Ron soon joined in, and thankfully, I was left out.

I guess that saying can be true, at times. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

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**A/N:** I think I ended on a bit of a happier note this time, hm? Anyway, as I've said before, and will continue to say, constructive criticism is extremely welcome! I can't improve unless you tell me how! 


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Thank you to Shdwcat27 and Because-I-Got-High for their reviews and Martiele for making me feel extremely special. :-P Also, I went back and edited the chapters and fixed misspellings and typos I found.

Mention of ways to commit suicide in the first paragraph. If that offends you, or you think it might put ideas in your head that shouldn't be there, then skip it and start at the second. 

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it. Not claiming to own it. Just borrowing.

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Hanging. Slitting one's wrists. Pills and alcohol. Drowning. Throwing oneself from a high window. Stabbing oneself. Deliberately falling down a large flight of stairs. Catching fire and burning to death, making sure to breathe in the flames to melt one's lungs. Shooting oneself. 

There are so many ways I could kill myself its ridiculous. And that's before I even get creative.

None of those things, however, is quite the same as what he went through. One can suffer,  
yes, but not nearly as much as he did, or in the same way. He didn't have a choice. He didn't understand what was going on. He couldn't grasp the fact that his life was slipping away before he even had a chance to live it.

He didn't understand why my father didn't seem to care, either. He couldn't ever begin to comprehend what was going on, with his own life and our family's life.

He asked me once. It was a few days before the end. He was so innocent, not a thought spared for the horrors of the world.

_"Hermione, why is Dad so mad at me?"_

_It felt like my heart was split in two as I took his tiny hand in mine and brushed my fingers across his brow. His voice was weak, little more than a whisper. His grip on my hand was even weaker._

_"He's not mad at you, sweetheart," I assured him. I didn't really know what to tell him...the truth had come out in an argument my parents had had, one that I wasn't supposed to hear. How could I possibly tell him what the real reason was? He would never understand...he would never get the chance to..._

_"Then why doesn't he sit with me?" he asked._

_"He's a very busy man. He feels he needs to keep working," I lied. I felt slightly guilty for it, but I didn't know what else to do._

_"Mummy cries a lot," he stated. He couldn't really keep his eyes open anymore. His lids were only parted slightly, enough for me to see the small sliver of brown I have rarely seen in recent days. I was surprised he was even able to continue trying to speak._

_I didn't know what to say to him, so I just smiled sadly and put a palm against his burning forehead. He tried to move his other arm, but the board it was strapped to prevented more than a few centimeters. It pained me to see that. It was a rather light board, really, only there to keep him from bending his arm, to make sure the needle of the IV didn't move around. If he was healthy, he could lift it easily, throw it, stomp on it if he wanted to._

_He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but his eyes drifted closed the rest of the way and he fell back to sleep..._

The bell rang and I jumped. Harry was watching me even as everyone was packing up. I didn't look at him, quickly shoving my things into my bag, slinging that over my shoulder.

I think I'm beginning to crack. Even Harry notices something is different, and Harry hasn't noticed anything recently, so caught up in his own troubles he's been.

He, Ron, and I walked to the Common Room together. Their voices grated on my nerves. I clenched my fists, willing myself not to break down and yell at them, tell them everything I hate about them and everything else. I need to keep my composure. I _need_ to. For my own sake as much as anyone else's, though I really couldn't care less about anyone else's anymore.

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"Hermione, can I take a look at your notes?" Harry asked.

"You really should think about taking your own," I replied, covering up the fact that I hadn't lived up to my usual standard of eager note-taker, barely paying enough attention to get the gist of what Professor McGonagall was saying.

"Sorry, I've just had a few other things on my mind lately," Harry said, his temper rising easily.

I just continued sitting, staring at my homework, pretending to read but not taking in a word of it.

"Calm down, mate," Ron said. He's quick to ease Harry's temper nowadays. Trying to play mediator when all he's really doing is irritating me even more.

"No, Ron. It's not bloody fair!" he said. His voice was getting louder and a few people were looking over at us. He didn't seem to notice, and I didn't care.

"You can at least try to be a little more understanding, Hermione," he continued. "I can't exactly keep my mind on every bit of information a teacher spews out! But of course you wouldn't know that, since that seems to be the only thing you do."

"Harry!" Ron said, indignant for me. Quickly changing sides like the weasel he can certainly be.

"Oh, excuse me," he said sarcastically. "Did I hurt your feelings, Hermione? What about my feelings? I can't get it out of my head, knowing I'm going to have to be facing Voldemort and that I'm very likely to die!"

"There are things going on outside the wizarding world, Harry," I said quietly. There were so many others things I wanted to say. The world doesn't revolve around you, Potter. You're not my biggest concern right now, and neither is Voldemort. You're being childish about this, thinking everyone should bow to your every whim because you might die fighting Voldemort. You're going to die eventually, so does it really matter how?

I rose to my feet, not even glancing at him, collected my books, and began to leave.

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" I heard him yell after me, but I let the portrait of the Fat Lady fall closed behind me, successfully blocking him, and all the other Gryffindors, out.

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**A/N:** Constructive criticism is welcome, as always. I want to know what you think about this chapter. It feels a bit rushed to me, but that might just be because I planned to have that small argument between Hermione and Harry in a later chapter. I also think the wording is strange, but that also could be my imagination. 


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Thanks to **ashes2342**, **Because-I-Got-High**, and **marisa** for their reviews! And a short message to **marisa**: Sorry I didn't email you when I put this up, but seeing as you didn't leave your address or sign in, I couldn't do so.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it. Not claiming to own it. Only borrowing.

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I had thought Harry had at least a slight understanding that I'm not myself anymore. I've slipped up a few times, and I'm not sure if it was a subconscious effort to get some kind of relief or I'm not the master actor I thought I was. 

Harry didn't notice, though. But Professor McGonagall did.

She found me, about an hour after curfew, sitting in a corner of the library. Books were sitting next to me in a relatively neat stack, making it obvious I hadn't really done any homework. Legs drawn up to my chest, arms around them, chin resting on my knees, back against a bookshelf, I sat staring at the opposite wall.

I was surprised by her presence; I hadn't heard her approach. Quickly leaping into my role, I jumped to my feet, apologizing profusely, telling her I had been thinking and lost track of time. It was a downright lie, and we both knew it.

"Miss Granger, please, calm down," McGonagall said. "And follow me. I wish to discuss something with you."

Her mouth was a thin line as she waited for me to collect my things and follow her to her office. Once there, she gestured to a chair before her desk, which I sat in. I found my eyes drawn to the fire, and was glad for the distraction. The flames snapped and crackled cheerfully, slowly consuming the wood, warming the side of me closest to it.

"Miss Granger."

I tore my eyes away from the fire and finally looked at her. I thought that being able to see emotions in people's eyes had to be a lie, because all I could see were black pupils, blue irises, and the white part that was slightly bloodshot. No insight on how she was feeling or what she was thinking. Her eyes were mere eyes. Only things that allowed her to see. And what she saw was me.

"Is there something that's been troubling you?" she asked. Straight and to the point.

"What gives you that idea, Professor?" I replied, feigning confusion with my tone of voice, cocking my head to the side, my eyebrows knitting together slightly.

"You're not your usual self, Miss Granger. Your work isn't what it usually is, you rarely raise your hand in class anymore, you've been out after curfew, and I've heard about your incident in the Potions room a few weeks ago. Mr. Weasley informed me of what happened earlier this evening between you and Mr. Potter, and has told me that you've become distant since the start of the school year. It worries me that one of my best students seems to suddenly be losing her grip." Blunt. Somewhat angry. Disappointed. Irritated.

I looked at my knees, at my hands gripping them to keep from shaking. The faint white scar on my left hand, right next to the knuckle. I noticed a thread was coming loose on my skirt and one of my shoes was scuffed.

"Hermione," McGonagall's voice was different now, gentle, trying to coax information out of me. "I'm here to help you." She sounded like the nurse that tried to talk to me after he died. "I can't do that unless you talk to me. Did something happen to you?"

This doesn't sound like the McGonagall I know so well. She never sounds like this. She's always stern and never sounds like she's on the verge of pleading. That somehow helps me keep my composure.

"Nothing happened, Professor. Really. I'm perfectly fine. I've just been thinking about...about Voldemort and the Death Eaters and such," I lied. I've become increasingly good at lying lately.

McGonagall gives me a long, hard stare, then sighs, as if in defeat. "Alright, Miss Granger. You may return to your dormitory now."

I picked up the bag with my books I had set on the floor and left, hastily wishing McGonagall a good night. My heart was beating furiously in my chest, and I felt like I was having trouble breathing. I didn't stop until I was a few corridors away, at which point I slipped into an empty classroom, leaning on the door. That conversation had shaken me up for a reason I didn't know.

For a few minutes, I just stood there. Then I took a deep breath, wiped my sweaty palms on my shirt, and exited the classroom, quickly making my way back to Gryffindor Tower for a sleepless night.

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**A/N:** I've said it before and I'll say it again: constructive criticism is extremely welcome! I want to know what you all think, how I can improve, all that good stuff. 


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Thank you **Because-I-Got-High** for your review! I appreciate it, as always. :-)

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own it. I'm still not claiming to own it. I'm still only borrowing.

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Days seemed to drag by, second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour, class by class. The weather grew steadily colder, the sky more gray, the wind a bit more harsh. Classes became harder, more homework was loaded down on us, and we had less time in which to have for ourselves. 

I passed up a Hogsmeade weekend so I could be alone. I told Harry and Ron that I had homework to do. Ron gave me a worried look, but Harry just grunted. He's still upset about our small argument and I honestly don't care. I'm glad he is. He doesn't talk to me, and since Ron takes his side, I don't have to talk to him much, either.

Over this time, I've come up with a plan. I know I need to get away from everything for more than a few hours, and I know the perfect way to do it. I only need to wait until Christmas break.

Until that comes, though, I need to continue as I have been, however much I don't want to.

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"Five points from Gryffindor, Granger, for your inability to properly pay attention during class."

I didn't reply, or even look at Snape. Points don't matter to me anymore. They're only points. It's not as if they're going to do anything for us. The winning house will get a trophy the students can't even touch and our house's colors decorating the great hall at the leaving feast. Big deal. What purpose could it possibly serve in the great scheme of things?

He stared at me for a few more seconds, his gaze burning into the back of my skull, before moving on to another student. My shoulders sagged very slightly as he walked away. I hated it when he stared at me. When anyone stared at me, really. It made me feel so uncomfortable that my palms would start sweating and the familiar hunk of metal would pop into existence within my stomach, threatening to push everything else out through my mouth.

At the end of class, my potion was definitely not up to my usual standards. The color was slightly off, and it was too thick. Nevertheless, I set my sample on Snape's desk, just like everyone else, cleaned up, and put my things away. I could feel him staring at me as I left, could picture his cold black eyes following me as I was caught up in the swarm of students anxious to get out of the room.

I broke away from everyone else and slipped down a deserted corridor. I hid behind a suit of armor, pressing my forehead against the cool metal and forcing myself to calm down. I couldn't keep losing my cool because someone questioned me or stared at me. _You're losing it, Granger. Get a grip on yourself and everything will be all right._

Mentally picturing a skeleton putting it's bones back together, like they would sometimes do in the cartoons I had watched as a child (it seemed like centuries ago...was it really only ten or so years?), I made my way back into the throng, heading towards the entrance hall to go outside to the greenhouses for Herbology.

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Harry won't stand at the same table as me. Ron gives me an apologetic look and follows Harry. I get stuck with Neville, who always gets excited during this class. Probably because it's the only one he's good at. I know that's harsh, but it's the truth and the truth hurts so everyone should suck it up and stop complaining.

I realize that by thinking that I turn myself into a hypocrite. The thought flits through my mind that I could be off worse, that I could be dead, or tortured until I died, or any number of things.

I crush that thought as easily as I crush the seed in my shaking fist that I was supposed to be planting.

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**A/N:** Constructive criticism is still welcome! I love to know what you all think about this, and you think I can improve the story! 


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Thanks to **jd**, **Shdwcat27**, **Wynta**, and**Because-I-Got-High** for their reviews! And an extra thanks to **Because-I-Got-High** for all the smiles. Þ Don't worry, things will lighten up...eventually. I promise Hermione _will_ smile, but later on in the story.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it. I'm not claiming to own it. I'm only borrowing.

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Why do people die? Why do people live? Why do we feel the need for contact with another person? Why do people say they love someone when they don't mean it? Why do spouses cheat on each other? Why do parents abuse their children? Why do children die before they have the chance to live? Why does disease and sickness exist? Why isn't the world perfect? Why do people take their anger out on people who don't deserve it? 

Why, why, why...I could go on forever asking why.

Rain pattered against the window. The grounds were muddy, the sky gray, the trees blowing and nearly bare. It was too dark already, and the sun wasn't supposed to set for another few hours.

I wished it would snow instead. Then I could stare as the white flecks fell to the ground, eerily silent, covering everything in a cold blanket. It feels cold enough to snow, especially when leaning against a window, and it's nearing the end of November.

I took in a deep breath and expelled it, watching the window fog, then watching the fog slowly recede, then grow again as I let out another breath. I moved my head a bit further away, blew out another breath. I raised my arm and wrote in it. Then I turned and walked away. The only thing left was the word WHY in the slowly receding blob of condensation.

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It was difficult to breathe, but it felt good. The air was cool against my face, a stark contrast to the heat of the water my body was submerged in. Bubbles floated on the surface and some kind of bath scent was having a calming effect on me.

"Get out, Granger."

I opened my eyes. Looked up at the owner of the voice I knew too well.

"Make me, Malfoy."

"It's almost curfew," he said. I just shrugged and closed my eyes again.

"Little Miss Perfect going to be out after curfew? That should make the front page of the _Prophet_ tomorrow," he drawled.

I sucked in a breath and submerged my head underwater so I wouldn't have to listen to him. I counted the seconds I was under, feeling the urge to breathe slowly get stronger and stronger.

After reaching thirty-six, however, an arm was shoved under the surface. A hand closed itself around my throat and forcefully pulled me out of the water, then out of the bath, slamming me against the cold tile floor. Half my body was hanging over the edge of the tub, and I was suddenly aware of how very naked I was.

"Don't ignore me, Granger," Malfoy snarled, his face close to mine. I could feel his warm breath and wanted to recoil, but I had nowhere to go.

"You better not make me any angrier, you filthy little Mudblood. Got it?"

I stared at him through half-lidded eyes. All was silent and still for a few seconds, until his face contorted with anger.

"Answer me!" he yelled. I didn't. Suddenly I couldn't. I had caught sight of his arm. The pale flesh was marred with the ugly mark left by Voldemort: the Dark Mark.

Realizing where my gaze fell, Malfoy released me and stormed out of the Prefects' bathroom.

I didn't move for over a minute. Then I slid back into the water, the pain from the edge of the pool-like tub digging into my lower back slowly receding. Now I had one more thing on my already overloaded mind.

The water grew cooler, the steam fading, breathing becoming easier. The bubbles vanished and the scent became faint. Time ploughed on, leaving me in a haze of dark thoughts and wishes that would never come true.

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**A/N:** Constructive criticism is, as always, extremely welcome. I want to improve and I won't know how unless you tell me what I might be doing wrong! 


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Thanks to **shailafter**, **Because-I-Got-High**, **Shdwcat27**, **sexy pancake**, **NumbuhZero**, **Bslehofer**, and **marisa** (thanks for leaving your email address this time!) for their reviews!

All right, I apologize for this, I promised myself I would NEVER respond to reviews in a chapter itself, but I really want to tell the following people some things. If you want to ignore it, feel free to and go on to the story.

**Because-I-Got-High:** I know the scene with Draco in the last chapter was short, but it wasn't pointless. And please don't put pink bunny stickers all over me...pink bunnies and I don't mix very well.

**Shdwcat27:** Don't worry too much. Hermione will get help soon, I promise.

**Bslehofer: **Sorry it's taking so long to reveal what's wrong with Hermione. I feel it's dragging, too, but I have planned how it's going to happen and when and how you'll learn everything.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it. I'm not claiming to own it. I'm only borrowing.

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I thought I could see my breath rising before me in a mist, though it was probably just my imagination. But I was cold. Very cold. So cold, in fact, that I couldn't stop shivering. 

The corridors are pitch black at night, and without the torches, you might as well be outside, as it's probably warmer there than inside. My school robes were inadequate for traipsing through the halls.

If a teacher found me, I would tell them I was making sure no one was out after curfew. They made me Head Girl, and I'm allowed to do that, after all. It's not encouraged, but the rules state that I'm still allowed to. Even if that's not what I'm doing. In reality, I'm planning things down to the last detail for Christmas break. McGonagall had finally gone around with the list to find out who was staying, and I cheerfully passed by. Apparently, though, Harry and Ron were both going to be staying at the Burrow, which meant I needed to plan for any odd questions they (meaning Ron) might have.

Hence my reason for wandering the halls in the pitch black and subzero temperatures.

I cupped my hands over my mouth, blew into them, heating them slightly, and then rubbed them up and down my arms frantically. They were warmed for a moment before the cold seeped back in. I sighed, hopped up and down for a few seconds, then turned swiftly and began making my way back to Gryffindor Tower.

Nearly there, feeling warmth in my cheeks from practically running, and I stopped. I could hear voices coming from a nearby classroom. They were quite loud, almost yelling, but obviously trying to keep quiet at the same time.

"-doing it!"

"You _will_, Pansy! I_ order_ you to!"

"No, Draco!"

I felt my blood go cold at his name and scurried away, towards the safety of the tower and my own warm bed. The night in the Prefect's bathroom was still too close, and I found I was inexplicably afraid of him like I never was before.

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Once in bed, I lay awake, thoughts washing over me, keeping me from falling into the blissful escape of sleep.

Draco Malfoy, seventeen years of age, not even out of school, is a Death Eater. He has no problem with inflicting physical pain upon others. He most likely participates in everything the other Death Eaters do. Murder. Torture. Destruction.

Harry Potter, forced to live without his parents and grow up in a home with the Dursleys. He will have to go face to face with the most powerful wizard in the world and has a good chance of losing everything.

Nicholas Granger, dead at six years of age.

The world is so unjust and wrong it makes me want to throw up.

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**A/N:** As always, constructive criticism is extremely welcome! I want to improve in any way I can, even if most of you give me positive feedback, which I'm quite thankful for, by the way. 


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** I felt bad for not updating for a few days then giving you a terribly short chapter that I decided to type up another.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own it, I'm not claiming to own it, I'm only borrowing.

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Bitter, slushy snow slapped against the windows as the Hogwarts Express sped through the country. I was sharing my compartment with Neville, who seemed content to sit and watch the snow. It was growing dark, and I knew we would be reaching London soon. 

"S-so, what are you doing for the break, Hermione?" Neville asked out of the blue.

"Nothing, really. Probably just going to be home the whole time," I replied, lying through my teeth to him. "What about you?"

"The same."

We fell into silence again. I tucked my legs under me and stared out the window, seeing the trees turn to buildings and houses, until we finally slowed to a stop.

"Have a nice break, Hermione," Neville said, flashing me a quick smile before leaving.

"You, too," I said quietly, grabbing my trunk and dragging it after me.

I left platform nine and three-quarters, then left King's Cross, and began making my way across the busy street. Traffic was moving slowly due to the snow, though I was nearly hit by a cab fish tailing around a corner. The driver beeped at me, but I ignored him and finally reached the other side of the street. From there, I proceeded down a few alleyways until I reached a less populated area.

I set down my trunk and fumbled in my pocket for my wand. It was cold, and my fingers were numb, but I grasped it tightly and thrust it out before me.

A few seconds and the sound of screeching brakes later, the purple triple decker Knight Bus came to a stop before me.

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I fell onto the bed, basking in the soft, warm sheets. I was tired, I was still slightly cold, my nose was running, and my feet were wet from tramping through the snow, but I was free for the time being. No parents arguing here, no supposed friends glaring at me, no teachers trying to talk to me. No one. I was the only living being in the house, which was owned by an aunt of mine. She would be in Chile for the entire winter.

I should probably feel bad that I was using her house without her permission, but the bed was so warm and comfortable that I slipped into a light sleep before I could decide if I felt anything about it.

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_"Damn it, John, don't you care about our son?"_

_"**Our** son? **OUR** SON! He's not **our** son, Janice. He's your little keepsake from Stephen!"_

_My eyes widened as I sat on the staircase, out of sight, listening to my parents arguing. Truths I had never known, never even thought possible, were coming out._

_"How could you?" my mother demanded. Her voice was choked slightly, and I knew she was on the verge of tears._

_"How could **I**? How could **you!** We took vows, Janice. See that ring on your finger? That stands for what we've promised each other! And you shoved that right in my face by sleeping with some other guy! You've known I know, and yet you still continue to act as if I'm bloody insane!"_

_"It's not fair, John. It's not fair! Hermione is always away at Hogwarts, you stopped talking to me, being around me. Even before I had the affair! And then I had Nick, and he needed me, and now he's dying! Lying in a damn hospital bed and thinking his father hates him!"_

_"I'M NOT HIS FATHER!"_

_My perfect image of my family was shattered right then and there, and I quietly crept back to my room, still able to hear them arguing with my door closed and locked._

I woke with a start, drenched in a cold sweat and shaking. I took a deep breath and let it out, then rubbed the sweat off my face with my sleeves. I hadn't had a dream of that memory in a while, but it still hurt just as much.

She, my mother, blames me. She blames me for being away at Hogwarts, for being a witch, for pulling the family apart enough that she felt she needed to do what she did. At an intellectual level, I knew that wasn't right, but at an emotional level I couldn't help but feel guilty. I could've rejected the Hogwarts letter. I could've done a better job at sending letters to them and going home during breaks. I could've spent more time with her over the summer.

I could've, I could've, I could've...but I didn't.

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**A/N:** Just wondering, but is a witch or wizard supposed to hold out their wand hand to summon the Knight Bus, or their wand? 

Anyway, constructive criticism is still, and will always be, welcome!


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Thanks to **Because-I-Got-High**, **Shdwcat27**, and **Aranel Aredhel Niphredil** (your English is fine, don't worry!) for their reviews!

I want you all to know I hate this chapter. A lot. It's short, it's badly written, and it's taken me days to get out even this. Flame all you want, I welcome them for this chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. I'm not claiming to own anything. I'm only borrowing.

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Christmas. A time of family and togetherness, of friends and lovers, of giving and getting. One feels the joy of waking up and finding a warm fire crackling merrily in the fireplace and seeing the presents under the tree. 

I woke up alone, cold, no tree, no warmth, and no joy. But I felt peaceful for the most part, as I just lay there, curled up in a blanket, watching the outside world through the window. I would have no presents to look forward to, but that didn't matter. I had the whole day to myself, and if I wanted, I could just stay here the whole time.

I didn't, but I could've. I eventually got out of bed, soaked in the bath, froze my toes off walking barefoot to the living room, and finally got myself a fire going. After that, I curled up with a mug of hot cocoa, a book, and a fluffy Crookshanks to keep me the only company I would ever need.

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Harry and Ron were probably having fun messing around together, going through their presents, wearing their Weasley sweaters. Mum and Dad are probably in different rooms, hating each other, hating me, hating everything. My aunt was probably having a ball with a man she met in Chile, not even guessing that someone was in her house.

But not me, no, I'm alone. And, for the first time in a long time, I feel lonely. I looked for this time to spend by myself, no distractions, no one coming to bother me. Why, then, did I suddenly have the urge to find someone just to sit with?

I told myself it was just because I had never spent Christmas alone. It was the lack of holiday cheer that was making me feel lonely. I knew deep down that wasn't the real reason, but I told myself it was anyway.

Not for the first time, I wondered if I was just being a drama queen. Maybe I was overreacting. Did I just want attention? Did I want to be alone? Perhaps I just wanted someone to be there for me, and I was subconsciously calling out for help.

Maybe I'm just a screwed up teenager that doesn't know what she wants.

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**A/N:** Please, I really need constructive criticism for this chapter. It's terrible and I want to make it better but I need someone to help me with that! 


	12. Chapter 12

Thank you **Alaksandra**, **Because-I-Got-High**, **radiofreegirl**, and the person who identified themselves as '**a**' for their reviews. To those who asked if my brother was okay: yes, he's fine. It turned out to be nothing serious or life threatening.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it, I don't claim to own it, no profit is being made and none ever will.

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I jumped, nearly letting out a shriek. Crookshanks hissed, his hair standing on end. 

Someone was knocking at the door, and they certainly shouldn't be. I stood, gripping my wand tightly. Maybe some neighbors noticed the lights and they were just coming to check up on the place?

I cautiously walked towards the door. There were no windows at the right angle to look through, and I had no idea what could be on the other side. The neighbor I was hoping for? A police officer? A Death Eater, perhaps?

Taking a deep, not-so-steadying breath, I opened the door, tense and ready for action.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Maybe not as ready for action as I had hoped, I thought as my body went rigid and I slammed painfully against the tile floor. It was cold and the cold from outside made it worse. I was wearing flannel pajamas and socks, but it didn't help. It felt like I had smashed my shoulder and hip to pieces.

I caught sight of my attacker and would have screamed if my mouth not been clamped shut. Instead, I whimpered pathetically, closing my eyes against my view of Professor Snape, flanked by Mad-Eye Moody and Tonks.

"Hermione?" Tonks asked. The curse was undone, and I scrambled up and away from them, staring at them with wide eyes, wand hand shaking slightly.

"What's going on?" The confusion was obvious in her voice and eyes.

In response, I just shook my head, making a noise that meant nothing.

"I think I have an idea," Snape sneered, glaring at me with cold black eyes.

"As have I," Moody growled. "It appears Granger here ran away from home."

"She wasn't kidnapped?" Tonks asked dumbly. If my brain had been working properly, I would have wondered what made her think I had been kidnapped. Instead, I was only wishing she had the ability to catch on a bit quicker and that they would all leave.

"No, she wasn't kidnapped."

"Then...why would she run away from home?"

"I believe that is a reasonable question. Granger? Why don't you enlighten us," Snape said mockingly, adopting an expression of one contemplating a conundrum.

I shook my head forcibly, hair falling in my face. I didn't push it out of the way, as I usually would. I didn't want to see them, and I didn't want them to see me.

"We're doing no good standing around here," Moody said gruffly. "C'mon, girl, get your things."

"No," I said quietly. "I'm staying."

"You're coming with us, Granger."

I straightened my spine, shook my hair out of my eyes, and stared determinedly at them.

"Tonks, go get her things," Moody ordered. She looked between Moody and me, then bowed her head and left the room.

"I'm perfectly fine on my own!" I said angrily.

"I take it you haven't seen this, then," Snape snapped, flinging an edition of the Daily Prophet into my hands. I looked at the page it was on and a choking noise escaped my throat as I saw the picture and headline.

**Hermione Granger Gone Missing!**

A picture of me was under that, and the article went on. I was too numb to read it. I was missing? Since when did anyone ever notice when I was missing? Since when was I actually missing in the first place?

"You're coming with us, Miss Granger, whether we have to force you or not."

I could only nod stupidly.

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**A/N:** Yeah, people are probably upset that I didn't update sooner. Yeah, it's short. Don't give me a review saying I better update soon and make it longer, because I'm not in the mood to read your complaints. Just be happy with what you have. Constructive criticism is, as always, welcome. 


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks to **Because-I-Got-High**, **Alaksandra** (my muse will never escape!), **CathRakka**, and **cecelle** for their reviews! And to all of you who have been anxiously waiting for Hermione to speak: I hope you're happy with this chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it. I'm not claiming to own it. No profit is being made and no profit ever will.

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I was embarrassed as I sat in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place in my pajamas. It was disconcerting as Order members stared at me. Some standing towards the outer edges of the room murmured to each other. Snape and Moody glared at me. Tonks was speaking to Mrs. Weasley through the fireplace. Harry and Ron wanted to come see me, but I didn't want to see them. 

I learned that they had been the ones to realize I was missing. Apparently, they tried to send me my Christmas presents but the owls came back confused. Through a bit of investigation by Mr. Weasley, who actually went to my house to see if I was there, they learned I wasn't and confused my parents to no end.

Everyone wanted to know why.

I wanted to know why they couldn't just let it be.

They asked me why a lot. I didn't answer. They asked me what gave me the idea. I told them I just thought it up. They asked if I knew who lived in the house. I told them my aunt. They asked if I had met a Death Eater recently. I told them no, while thinking of Draco Malfoy. They asked why I left again. I didn't answer again.

It was a seemingly endless cycle. They finally let me go up to bed when it was long after midnight.

I lay in bed for the longest time just staring at the wall. I was nervous and wanted to throw up. I was cold, but the blanket didn't help any. I wanted to sleep but couldn't even close my eyes. I was a helpless teenage witch who didn't know what she should do or what she wanted to do. I didn't like it.

I got fed up with just being there, in that room, in that bed. I put on a pair of socks and silently made my way into the kitchen. I looked at the chair I had sat in while they interrogated me, and then glanced away.

I got myself a glass of water, wishing it was tea, and sat down in a different chair. I took a sip of the water, and then stared at it. The moonlight drifting in through the window over the sink hit the glass and faint patterns of light could be seen on the tabletop. I stared at them, and then put my hand around the glass, making them vanish.

"Granger. How surprising."

_Hello, Professor Snape_, I said in my mind.

"Go back to bed," he ordered. I didn't move to get up. I took a sip of my water then set the glass on the table again. I didn't take my hand off it and stared into the water again.

I heard his faint sigh. He was tired. I could almost feel it.

"My brother died over the summer," I told him on a whim, not even knowing why and not entirely wanting to. It was just an urge. An urge to get it off my chest and to speak to someone who wouldn't pity me.

"I wasn't aware you had a brother," Snape said.

"I did. He'd be seven by now, but at the time, he was only six. He had sepsis. It started as strep throat. The strep throat wasn't treated because there were no signs that Nick had it. Then out of the blue, he gets a really high fever and the shakes and started getting delirious, so we took him to the hospital. The doctors tried to save him, but he didn't respond to the antibiotics. He died after a week or so. He was so pale and weak and skinny...it's not right that a child so young should have to suffer so much. He didn't even know what was happening to him."

"And is this the reason why you decided to run away from home?" Snape asked. It sounded like he was insulting me.

"No," I said. "Not the only one, really. It was depressing, and I suppose a psychocologist would tell me I was traumatized by it. But there's more. Nick was the illegitimate son of my mother. She had an affair. I didn't know until over the summer. I heard Mum and Dad fighting. She was mad at him because he wouldn't sit with Nick while he was obviously dying. He told her it was because it wasn't even his son. Mum said she had the affair because I wasn't around anymore. They both blame me for it, and for Nick dying." I laughed mirthlessly. "After all, he wouldn't have been around to die if I had never gone off to Hogwarts, right?"

"You don't believe that, do you?"

"No. I know it's not my fault, intellectually. Emotions are a pain, though. No logic to them whatsoever."

Snape obviously decided to ignore that comment. "Do your friends know about this?" He said the word friends as if it left a particularly nasty taste in his mouth. He said 'this' with nearly as much venom. I wondered briefly if it bothered him that I was talking to him, of all people, about it, but decided I didn't care.

"No. They don't. You're the only person who does. I don't even think my parents realize I know a lot of what's happened." I looked away from him and at a spot on the wall.

"I suppose Harry is going to tell me he's sorry for being a jerk to me when I see him again," I said quietly after a few minutes of silence.

"Is that a bad thing?" Snape asked.

"He won't even feel guilty for more than a few minutes after he knows for sure that I'm all right."

"But you're not all right," Snape observed.

I shook my head. "No. But no one needs to know that."

And with that, I finally let to go of my glass and left the kitchen. The distorted light through the glass of water shone on the table. I imagined Snape stared at it for a moment, lost in thought, and then left as well.

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**A/N:** Hope you liked it. Constructive criticism is, as always, welcome. 


	14. Chapter 14

Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. I haven't made an update in over a month. Unfortunately, a life snuck up on me while I wasn't looking and I had other things to do besides make you happy with this crappy fan fic. _Obviously, _I'm going to continue this fic, and if I decide I'm not going to, I _will_ let you all know. No matter how long I leave this sit without updating, or even thinking about it, until I tell you it's over it's not over. Okay? So don't ask.

Thanks to **Darkraven Haven** (you might not know how this pairing will work out, but I do. Thanks for the input, though, and I'll think about it all), **Shdwcat27**, **Alaksandra**, **Aranel Aredhel Niphredil**, **Jacc**, **CathRakka**, **Sham**, and **Addy **for their reviews. I hope you eventually read this and didn't get too mad at me for not writing (this fic).

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Snape told Dumbledore. Dumbledore told McGonagall. McGonagall told Harry and Ron. Harry and Ron came rushing into Grimmauld Place, yelling and generally making me feel like shit. Soon the whole Order knew. Mrs. Weasley cried and hugged me. Ginny got teary and didn't talk to me, just stared. Harry yelled a bit more, and Ron tried to make me feel better but didn't help. I sat there staring at the wall, wanting nothing more than to crawl into the ground and die. 

I had to visit my parents. McGonagall told me I had to fix things with them. I wondered where Snape was. I wanted to strangle him, or maybe beg him to let me hide in his dungeons so I wouldn't have to deal. I just want someone who doesn't actually pretend to care right now.McGonagall was sitting in the other room with Harry and Ron, and I knew they were all listening to everything.

I sat on the couch in the living room, hearing my mother cry, feeling my father's glare, listening to them yelling at me that they were worried sick, I could've been lying in a ditch somewhere, what the hell is wrong with me, why didn't I talk to them. Well? Why can't I answer their questions? What am I thinking? What's wrong with me? Did I even use my brain? Did I have a reason, or did I just want attention?

I don't know...stop yelling...stop...just stop it...

"STOP IT!"

They did stop. Mum stopped crying and Dad stopped glaring. They stopped yelling. They just stared at me.

"I don't need this," I said.

"Do you think we needed-"

"Just stop it!" I yelled at them, getting to my feet. "I don't want to listen to you anymore! With everyone around me, I'm not allowed to feel anything! If I get angry, or sad, or anything you all just make me feel guilty by talking about your own problems! Well, guess what, I _do_ feel. You act as if this was a sudden thing, that I just up and decided hey, I'm going to run away today! You don't notice _anything_ about me, and I'm supposed to _care_ about you?"

This outburst was met with silence. I clenched my fists, spun on my heel, and walked out of the house, slamming the door behind me.

No one followed me.

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**A/N:** Its short, its sucks, don't bother telling me. It's okay. I know already. Concrit is welcome! Please and thank you. 


	15. Chapter 15

Hope everyone had a nice Christmas, and those who don't celebrate it had a good whatever it is you celebrate. Happy Christmahanukwanzadan?

Sorry for taking so long (again), but I've been busy. I've been getting a bunch of writing assignments for English and a bunch of reading assignments for World History, which pushed this fic down on my list of things to do. It doesn't help that this chapter was _really_ hard for me to write. However, it's here (and short).

Anyway, thanks to **Because-I-Got-High** (thank you also for assuring me that my story doesn't suck), **KellyRoxton**, **Nore**, **Annalijse**, **MadAnge**, **azura14**, **evil-mastermind666**, **dan**, and** dollo** for their reviews! I really appreciate them.

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I had no idea where I was going. I just walked. It was cold, and the ground still had snow on it. I hunched my shoulders and hugged myself, wishing I had thought to grab my coat. 

It was hours later, and almost dark, when I found myself outside the Leaky Cauldron. Shivering, thinking I might as well get a drink and warm up, maybe stay the night, I entered the pub. In the corner, there were three old witches, talking loudly about the apothecary and how ridiculous the prices were getting. At another table was a lone wizard, lost in a book. There was a pair of witches at the next table over, glancing at him and giggling. At the bar, there were two middle-aged, somewhat mean looking wizards who glared at me as I took the seat farthest from them as possible but still at the bar.

"Hello, there, Miss. What can I get for you?" Tom asked.

"Butterbeer," I murmured. He dug around for a moment and brought out a bottle of it. I took it and drank a few sips.

"My, you look like you've been walking around out there for hours! And without a coat?" Tom said, giving me a toothless half-smile. I made a noncommittal noise in response, and he was called over to the other side of the bar by the mean looking wizards.

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The Leaky Cauldron slowly emptied, people either going upstairs to their room or using the Floo to go home. It was late before I was the only one left.

"It's getting late, Miss. Don't you have a home to get back to?" Tom said.

I shrugged and stared at my empty bottle of butterbeer. Tom took it from my hand and gave me a new one.

"Are you running from it?"

I glanced up at Tom then back down at my drink and shrugged again.

"Come now, dear, tell old Tom about it," he said.

I thought about getting up and leaving so I wouldn't have to talk to him, then thought about telling him. In the end, I decided to pour my soul out to the poor barkeep.

After I heard myself tell the story, it suddenly seemed stupid and pathetic to me. I felt my face heating up and couldn't bring myself to look at Tom.

He was the one to break the short silence. "It seems you have yourself a problem. Your parents aren't the only ones blaming you for the ordeal, either. You're blaming yourself. It's not your fault, dear. Death is a natural part of life, and your little brother would have died eventually. The fact that he was born in the first place is not your fault, either. That rests on your mother's shoulders only."

I sighed quietly, ready to leave again. He was telling me things I already knew.

"As for your friends," he continued, "You can't blame them for not knowing what was wrong. Your friends are there to talk to, and they don't know what's going on unless you do. They sound like good fellows at heart, maybe you should think about letting them know what's going through that head of yours."

He crossed his arms and nodded with an air of finality. I thanked him quietly, feeling, if it was possible, a bit more miserable. But the advice Tom gave me stuck in my brain as I used the Floo to go back to Grimmauld Place.

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Hope you guys liked it. Concrit is welcome, as always. 


	16. Chapter 16

Thanks to **evil-mastermind666**, **fuzzywuzzywuzza**, **KellyRoxton**, **MistressxBelladonna**, **BedtimeStory**, and **Because-I-Got-High** for their reviews.

**fuzzywuzzywuzza- **I'm flattered you think this is good enough for Ashwinder, but as I'm only 15, I'm not supposed to even have an account on the site. I'll think about it and maybe I'll have a friend post it for me or something.

I'm also just about to change the end of chapter 13 so it's consistent. **Fuzzywuzzywuzza** pointed out that it would change the point of view if I kept that the same. No one has to go back and read it, as Hermione is now only going to imagine that's what Snape did.

**Disclaimer: **Don't own it, not claiming to.

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"Well, well, Granger. Finally decided to appear again?" 

I glanced at Snape as I stood up from the fireplace.

"Why are you here?" I asked bluntly. "Shouldn't you be at Hogwarts or something?"

He scowled at me from his seat in one of the chairs. I noticed it was the same place he sat in the other night, when I told him about Nick. I felt my stomach clench.

"There are a lot of people who are worried about you," he said after a minute or so.

"Does that include you?"

"No."

"Then why bother telling me?"

I knew I was irritating him. I knew I was taking my confusion out on him and he didn't deserve it. Then I thought of all the times he had been mean to me over the years and realized he did deserve it because he's a bloody git.

"You're out of line," he told me.

I shrugged and finally took a seat in the chair nearest me. I leaned it back on two legs and looked at him crossly. He glared back.

"You need to get over it, Granger. The world doesn't revolve around you and you don't always need to be on your little pedestal."

"I don't want to be on a pedestal. I just want…" I trailed off, wondering, again, what is it that I really wanted?

"Go on, this conversation is highly interesting," Snape said sarcastically.

"I want things to go back to normal. I don't want people to put so much pressure on me. I want to be able to stop thinking. I want to be able to care about the things I used to care about, even if they're not as important as other things. I want to have someone who doesn't care about me enough to treat me as if I'm the idiot I really am. I want someone to handle everything for me because I'm too screwed up to do it myself. I want to sleep without having nightmares. I want to sleep period. I want to throw up."

"That's all well and good, but you don't always get what you want."

I looked at him, and I mean really looked at him. I was tempted to tell him he would be the one to know, seeing what kind of position he was in. I could've been nasty and asked him if he had wanted to be a Death Eater in the first place, if he wanted to be partly to blame for the deaths of Harry's parents. I could've said any number of things that would make him want to kill me, ranging from did he want to be such a greasy git to did he want to kiss the hems of Voldemort's robes.

"What do you want?" I asked instead.

"That, Miss Granger, is none of your concern," he told me, getting to his feet. I stood as well and met his eyes.

"If you plan on throwing up, please do so quietly."

I laughed. It really wasn't very funny, when I think about it, but I just felt I had to laugh. Maybe it was because I hadn't in so long, or maybe it was just his expression. I found it didn't really matter as I stood there, laughing in front of Severus Snape, with him standing there staring at me with an expression of disdain.

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**A/N:** Concrit is, as always, welcome! 


	17. Chapter 17

Thanks to **Because-I-Got-High**, **evil-mastermind666**, and **BedtimeStory** for their reviews!

**Disclaimer: **Don't own it, not claiming to.

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"Hey Harry, Ron…" I said quietly. 

"Hey, Hermione," they chorused. They seemed uneasy and I found I couldn't quite blame them.

I stepped farther into the room and felt my resolve beginning to leave me and practically threw myself onto Ron's bed next to him and clutched the sheets as if they would keep me anchored there. I took a deep breath and looked first at Ron, then at Harry, then back at my feet.

"I'm really sorry for being such an idiot for the past few months," I said.

"We're sorry for not being there for you," Ron replied.

"And I'm sorry for being a jerk," Harry said quickly.

Ignoring Harry for the moment, I responded to Ron. "You guys didn't even know what was going through my head, you had no way of actually being there."

"We're still sorry," Harry muttered.

"It's fine."

"We, uh…we talked to your parents," Ron said hesitantly. I felt my shoulders tense and my grip on Ron's sheets tightened. "They say they're sorry, and your dad says he understands if you don't want to see them. Your mum wants to know why you didn't just say something. And we kind of…you know, want to know why you never told us what happened, let alone that you had a brother."

I sighed and carefully removed one of my hands from the sheets and rubbed my forehead. "I just…didn't want to talk. And I never really thought I really needed to tell you about Nick. I only saw him during the summer holidays, anyway. It's not like he was…an intricate part of my life."

"But he was your brother!" Ron exclaimed, probably the most shocked because of his many siblings.

"Excuse me if I had other things to think about," I said coldly.

"Did you at least care about him?" Harry asked.

"Yes!" I nearly shouted, feeling close to tears. "Of course I loved him. It was just…I didn't want…I thought that it would be better to keep things separate, you know? It's not easy to mix a Muggle life and a magical life. And thinking about Nick and not being able to be there while he grew up was hard enough. I felt like such a bad sister, and I didn't need you two asking how he was doing and not knowing the answer."

"I'm sorry, Hermione," they both mumbled.

I sighed and rubbed my forehead again with a shaking hand. I furiously wiped at my eyes, scratched my cheek, rubbed my nose, blinked a few times. I ran a hand through my hair then put my elbows on my knees and let my head rest in my hands. I felt Ron put his hand on my back and tensed against the contact. He either didn't notice or ignored it, because he didn't remove the offending appendage.

"It's okay to be upset, Hermione," Ron said quietly, and that statement was my undoing as I began to cry. I took in deep, shaky breaths to try not to sob, sucked up snot quite a few times, and made a large wet spot on my jeans. Harry came over and sat on my other side and the two waited silently for me to pull myself together.

"I can't deal," I said through the tears.

"It's all right. We're here, and you can talk to us," Harry said.

I nodded and wiped my eyes, though more tears came anyway. It was a while before I finally calmed down, and although thoughts of everything I could tell them swam through my head, I remained quiet and allowed them to begin telling me that we would all just relax and have fun for the last few days of break.

Later, as we sat and ate lunch and I had regained my ability to smile, though my hands still shook slightly, I decided that crying doesn't make you feel much better, but having friends certainly did.

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**A/N:** Concrit is still welcome! 


	18. Chapter 18

Thank you** Because-I-Got-High **and** Sunlight Girl** **for** your reviews.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it, I'm not claiming to own it.

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The rest of the break passed quickly, and before I knew it, we were back into the daily routine of Hogwarts. It was a little weird at first, as some people asked me what happened to me over break, was I really abducted by Death Eaters, was I tortured, things like that. They stopped, though, after I started taking points for it. Being Head Girl can pay off. 

Harry and Ginny got together, big surprise. I'm happy for them. Ginny's fancied him for years, and now that they're together, Harry is a lot less gloomy. It does get rather annoying watching them snog in the common room, but if they want to swap their saliva thenthat's their business, not mine.

Ron and Lavender got together as well. I have no idea what she could possibly see in him, but she and Parvati giggle together in the dorm at night, with Lavender recounting everything she could remember Ron saying to her that day and numbering all the times they've kissed. Honestly, those are things I wish she would keep to herself, as they're also part of Ron's private life (but mostly because I don't want to know), but then he was probably doing the same thing in the boys' dorm.

I've gotten cursed a few times in the hallway, always by Slytherins. Usually a group of them is standing together, so I can't pin it on one person, but I have suspicions that it's Malfoy or Pansy Parkinson, or maybe even both. It's rather annoying, especially since I could swear they were trying to kill me a few times, like when I was hit with a Jelly-Legs Jinx while walking down a staircase. Luckily, a couple of fifth year Hufflepuffs caught me before I spilled my brains across the floor. I've been thinking of ways to get them back, but so far, no good plans have come to mind.

I actually feel rather bad for Pansy. I know she's mean and probably brought this upon herself, but she treats Malfoy like a god and he treats her like trash. She's still a bitch to me, and everyone else, really, but it's sad to see something like that.

Really, life has been going pretty well. Attacks by Death Eaters have been becoming more frequent and bloody, the Ministry was going mad (as if it wasn't already), and Dumbledore looks more and more worn and old every day, which worries me, but when I sit by the fire in the common room doing homework things felt completely normal. Well, as normal as things can get in the Wizarding World with the people I associate with.

Oh, yes, there's just that one little issue I've been having. For some reason I think I might possibly, however unlikely it may be, have a tiny crush on Snape. I can't get him out of my head. I don't think he's handsome or anything, I don't want to have any kind of...intimate relationship with him, and I definitely don't believe he doesn't have faults. He has many. In fact, he has much more than I ever thought possible for one human being to have. He's mean and nasty and cruel and a complete and total git who needs to wash his hair and brush his teeth.

But at the same time, I find myself strangely attracted to him. It's nothing huge, I don't stare at him during class or try to get detention with him, but sometimes I'll find myself glancing at him during meals, or thinking about him when I'm supposed to be reading. It's quite odd, really. I suppose it must be one of those weird psychological things where he was the only one treating me no differently than usual during my fit of depression and was somewhat nice, in a way, when he listened to me in the middle of the night, so my brain has decided to like him.

Not really how I had planned to spend my final year at Hogwarts, but what can I do, right? Obliviate myself? That actually doesn't sound like such a bad idea...

Don't worry. I'm not serious. I'd lose too much information I've learned this year if I did that.

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**A/N:** Constructive Criticism is still welcome!


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: **Don't own it, not claiming to.

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"You two really should start studying," I said to Harry and Ron, as they sat on the couch, Ginny and Lavender with them, snuggling up to them. It was sickening, really. 

"Hermione, we've got two and a half more weeks until N.E.W.T.'s start!" Ron complained.

"Yes, and how long do you think it will take to shove everything you need to know through that thick skull of yours?" I shot back crossly.

"Lighten up," Harry said, obviously in one of his placid moods. "There's still plenty of time. Besides, if you don't relax you'll blow a fuse or something."

"Fuse?" Ron asked.

"Fine, but don't come whining to me when you both put off studying for too long and have to stay up all night to finish." I closed my book with a snap, shoved it in my bag, and stalked out of the common room.

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

I stewed in the library for a few hours until it closed, then began to make my way slowly back to Gryffindor tower. A strange thing happened, though. As I turned a corner, I was almost ploughed over by Snape and Dumbledore rushing down the corridor. All three of us stopped short. I looked from Dumbledore to Snape and back again, wondering what was going on. Both were pale and nervous looking, which was something I never imagined I would see. Snape, the unshakable bastard, and Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard in the world.

"Professors?" I said.

"Excuse us, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, and before I could even blink, they had skirted around me and were off, nearly running down the hall.

A bit worried now, I flew back to the common room, bent on telling Harry and Ron what I had just seen.

I burst through the portrait hole, scaring a couple of students nearby out of their wits, and rushed over to Harry and Ron. Unfortunately, they were a bit preoccupied with their mouths. That is, until I shot little non-bursting bubbles at the backs of their heads.

"What?" Harry exclaimed angrily. He and Ron were wearing similar looks of annoyance, Ginny and Lavender not appearing much kinder.

Rather than answering, I grabbed them both by the fronts of their robes and began to drag them to their dormitory. They followed, albeit very reluctantly, and stared at me expectantly as I closed and locked the door, then performed an Imperturbable charm on it.

"Hermione, what is it?" Harry demanded.

I took a deep breath and launched into an explanation, describing running into Snape and Dumbledore.

"I think something might be happening now. Something bad," I concluded breathlessly.

Ron frowned. "How do you know it's not something like a student got hurt down in the dungeons?"

"Because! I highly doubt Dumbledore would've looked so scared if some idiot hurt themselves!"

Ron still looked rather unconvinced, so I turned my attention to Harry. He was standing there with a stony expression, watching me.

"Well?" I asked him.

"Well what?" he asked slowly, as if trying to buy himself time to answer.

"Well, what do you think?"

"I don't know."

I growled in frustration, running my hands over my face. "Does your scar hurt at all?"

"No more than usual. It's been burning a bit for over a week now, but not like something is about to happen," he said.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yes."

I sighed and allowed myself to sink to the floor, leaning against the wall.

"Maybe it is something important, but not an attack," Ron said. "Maybe...I know this would be bad, but maybe someone died."

"Maybe," I said quietly. Then I shook my head and stood up. Without looking at them, I said, "Sorry to interrupt you," and left their room, heading back down to the common room. I picked up my bag and went into my own dorm then sat on my bed. Snape and Dumbledore's obvious nervousness bothered me, and for hours that night, it ate at my mind. Even the next morning as I sat at breakfast, I kept glancing up at the High Table. Snape and Dumbledore were both composed, but I thought I could still see a little apprehension.

"Stop worrying about it, Hermione," Ron said. "It's probably nothing we need to think about."

"Yeah, if it was really important, we'd probably get some kind of warning, right?" Harry said.

"Yes, I suppose..."

We didn't know how wrong we were.

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**A/N: **Concrit is welcome!


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: **Don't own it, not claiming to.

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The night before our first day of N.E.W.T.'s, I found myself wandering the halls. I was restless and couldn't sleep, so I figured walking around the castle until my legs felt like lead weights might make me tired. I knew it would probably be better for me just to lie in bed with my eyes closed, but who really ever does what's best for them? 

It was still cold in the castle corridors at night, even this close to summer, so I decided to head down to the kitchen for a cup of hot cocoa. Afterwards, I promised myself, I would go back to bed.

Unfortunately, I never made it back to Gryffindor tower that night.

As I sat at a table in the kitchen, mug of cocoa warming my hands, a peculiar thing happened. The house elves rushed to the entrance of the kitchen, as they always did whenever someone entered, and the next thing I knew Gryffindor had thirty less points and I had a tall, dark, menacing Potions professor glaring down his abnormally large and hooked nose at me.

"_Back to bed, **now**, Granger_!" he snarled, spittle flying from his mouth with the force he spat the words out at me.

More than a little frightened, I stood, leaving my mug on the table, and rushed towards the entrance to the kitchen. The house elves moved out of my way and I went through the portrait hole.

Then another peculiar thing happened. Someone outside the kitchen yelled, and there was a flash of red light. But barely half a second after the first person yelled, a second person yelled from inside the kitchen and a flash of orange light hit the red light and they both winked out of existence. All of this happened before I could even begin to reach for my wand.

However, I did manage to grab my wand out of my pocket and point it at whoever was in front of me and choke out a somewhat feeble "Petrificus Totalus." Feeble though it was, it worked, a muffled _thunk_ being the evidence of that.

Snape came up behind me as I started to take a step towards the person, shoving me back, and then going forward himself. He lit his wand and I saw the frozen form of Pansy Parkinson on the ground, glaring as well as she could with that little pug face of hers being completely frozen.

"Um...Professor?" I said tentatively. "What's going on?"

"Stupefy," Snape muttered, ignoring me, his wand pointed at Pansy. I was startled, to say the least. Professor Snape doing that to a student? And a _Slytherin_ no less?

"Don't just stand there, let's go," he snarled at me, starting to walk swiftly towards the nearest staircase.

"What's going on?" I asked, not moving.

"Granger! If you want to live to see the light of day tomorrow, I suggest you follow me NOW!"

That certainly made me want to move a bit faster, and I ran to catch up with him. We made it up one staircase before finding a pair of students, Slytherins, stalking down the hall towards us. Without even batting an eye, all three Slytherins present raised their wands. Snape, of course, was the quickest, casting Expelliarmus at them. He caught both their wands easily, and I assisted him by casting Stupefy on the nearest student while he did the same to the other.

"Professor, can-"

I didn't even get the words out before he grabbed my arm and dragged me down another corridor. We went through two hallways, one secret passageway, and a staircase before he pushed me inside a broom closet. For a moment, I thought he was going to lock me in, but to my relief (or possibly not) he followed me in, closing the door behind him. He lit his wand with a muttered "lumos" and I once again found myself being glared at.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he growled.

"Um..."

"What's that, Granger? Those brains of yours have finally decided to stop working?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I took a walk," I said defensively.

"Do you have any idea the consequences of your little midnight stroll?"

"Obviously not," I mumbled crossly.

"You have not only put your own life in danger, but the lives of the students we had to curse on the way here. In fact, you may have even put the lives of every student in this bloody castle in more danger than they already were," Snape said in a deathly calm, deathly quiet voice that scared me more than Voldemort ever could.

"Is there going to be an attack on the school tonight? Sir?" I asked. I realize it's a very stupid question, but when in a situation such as that one's brain usually decides to be rid of any higher functioning and one is left with nothing but basic instinct.

"I see your skills of deduction have suffered no damage," he said sarcastically. I glared at him. He glared back. For a minute or so, that was the only thing happening, but then I finally looked away, at the door.

"I have to warn Harry and Ron," I said quietly.

"You don't _have_ to do anything of the sort. In fact, the only thing you _have_ to do is remain here, ward the door, and hope the castle doesn't collapse. Stay silent, and whatever you do, do _not_ leave this closet, or I swear I'll make you pay when this whole thing is over," he said in that same deathly voice.

"What about you?" I asked. Stupid, stupid, stupid...

"That is none of your concern, Granger."

"Yes it is."

He gave me one of his Looks, where he's very tempted to hex me six ways to Sunday. I shrank back a little, but didn't give up.

"Look, it's my fault you're in a broom cupboard right now, can't I help?" I said.

"You can help by staying here where I at least know where you are and know you're not being killed. It is my duty as a professor at this institution to protect the students, and as you're a student, however dimwitted you may be, I must protect you. I would rather not give my life doing it, so I'm telling you, Granger, to stay here." He turned to leave, but I put a hand on his arm. He whirled around, as well at possible, considering our location, and stared at me.

"Please, keep yourself from dying," I said, allowing a bit of concern to show.

He swallowed and nodded. "I fully intend to."

For a moment, he didn't seem like the Snape I had known for the last seven years. For a moment he seemed like a normal man, a man who was afraid of death, afraid of what might happen, just plain afraid. For a moment, he seemed to snap out of his misanthropic bastard persona. For just a moment, a mere moment, he seemed like someone who needed warmth and compassion just as much as a normal person. I guess that's why I kissed him. It wasn't passionate, it wasn't deep, there was no hugging, and there was very minimal tongue, but it still made my heart flutter, whether from fear of the consequences or something else I wasn't sure.

Then the moment passed and he pushed me away. He looked backat me once before closing the door. I listened to his footsteps fade, and then I was alone, cold, a bit frightened, but determined. Determined to fight for what I believed in and to help Harry achieve what he was meant to achieve.

So I waited for five minutes to pass, then ten, andthen left the broom closet to go back to Gryffindor tower and tell Harry what was going to happen.

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**A/N:** Let me know if you think its total crap. I can still change it, even though the next (and last) chapter is up. 


	21. Chapter 21 Finale

This is it, the last chapter. I'd just like to thank everyone who's supported me alone the way, especially **Because-I-Got-High**, who's been reviewing since the beginning and telling me to keep smiling. Thanks, sweetheart!

Originally this is not how I meant this story to end. In fact, I had intended for this to be a romance. The story, however, practically wrote itself and this is how it came out. Hope it isn't too bad.

**Disclaimer: **Don't own it, not claiming to.

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The battle was as all battles are. It was quick, bloody, confusing, and full of death. Many died, many more were injured, but we won. 

I had found Harry and Ron coming down the stairs to the sixth floor. Apparently, Ron was still up studying (I told him that was going to happen) and noticed dark figures outside, which were obviously Death Eaters. Then a split second later, he said Harry shot straight up in bed, shouting something about "he betrayed us."

I hadn't had time to think about it then, as Death Eaters' children attacked us rather suddenly, but now I suppose that it meant Snape betrayed Voldemort.

It took us mere minutes to get outside to where much of the action was taking place. I was separated from Harry and Ron almost instantly, so I have no idea what happened during Harry's duel with the Dark Lord. Instead, I found myself fighting back to back with McGonagall. Dumbledore had been with her, but when Harry, Ron, and I came out, he went to go seek out Voldemort.

Some other students found their ways outside and into the battle. I was proud to see many were from the DA. We were still outnumbered about three to one, and considering that it was just faculty, staff, and students against Voldemort's followers, it was amazing more didn't die.

It had seemed like such a long battle, and it still does when I look back on it, but it couldn't have lasted more than twenty minutes. It all ended so quickly that at first I hadn't realized it was over. There was just an unearthly scream and then that was it. We won just like that.

I'm not sure if it can really be considered winning, though. We lost so many lives during the fight. And not just that last fight, but in all the fights before that, in all the missions people went on to gain information on the other side, and afterwards, catching stray Death Eaters and followers. Both sides lost so much that I wonder if anything could be worth so much misery and death.

One death in particular hurt, though.

I was helping find the wounded and figure out who was dead. I found him on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, almost completely out of sight. I felt tears prick my eyes as I knelt down next to his body. He was obviously dead. His black eyes stared up at me, unseeing, face frozen in a disturbing, grotesque imitation of his usual sneer.

It had apparently been a dispassionate death for him, as there were no signs of fatal injuries. The Avada Kedavra. I assume he died cold and alone, on the very edge of the battle, probably killed by a Death Eater.

It was hard for me to believe Snape was really dead. He was one of those people you always expect to be there, whether you like them or not. It was scary, really. He had always seemed invincible to me. I realize that's stupid, as everyone dies, but it's true.

Eventually I found out it was Draco Malfoy who had killed Snape. Harry and I hunted him down and had him sent to Azkaban.

Not many people turned up at the funeral. The whole school was invited, of course, but many neglected to show up. Some couldn't, because of funerals for some in their own families or friends or some such thing, but it would have been nice if Snape had been appreciated a bit more. I certainly am a hypocrite, because I didn't appreciate him until he shoved me into that broom closet.

I realized, as I watched his coffin be lowered into the ground and listened to the silence-- there were no tears shed for Snape, not even my own-- that I may have grown to love him, if I had been given the chance. It would have been a painful love, one that would never be reciprocated, but a love nonetheless. I wondered for a bit what it would have been like.

I've learned a lot this past year. I've learned that there are some things one should never know, there are some things one should never do, and there are some things that one should never see. Most importantly, though, I've learned that one should never have regrets because you can't change what's happened in the past, but you can change the future.

**The End**

I hope you liked it, and I hope the last two paragraphs weren't too sappy! Once again, I want to thank everyone for taking the time to review, or even just read this.

I will be going back and correcting errors in this eventually, but for the time being I'm working on a new project that _might _be posted here some time soon, or I might just trash it. If you want to read, it if it's posted, just add me to your author alert list.

TTFN,

ThePhreak


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